


Dean, The Devil's in Georgia!

by Thursdays_Angel



Series: Being Human [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursdays_Angel/pseuds/Thursdays_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And he's looking for a soul to steal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean, The Devil's in Georgia!

**Author's Note:**

> "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" belongs to Charlie Daniels Band. I don't really like songfics but I got to listening to this one day and it just seemed like the thing to do.

**_Dean, the Devil’s in Georgia!_ **

****

            Castiel sat in the garage of Singer Salvage Yard while Dean worked under the Impala. The radio was on and playing classic songs, though most were, not all of them were rock. Castiel found that he recognized a good number of them. He was perched on a stool, tome in hand, trying to figure out the best way to translate the text he was reading into English. Unfortunately the part he was currently looking at was not able to be translated directly.

            The current song playing on the radio ended, something about a highway to hell. Honestly he was only paying partial attention to what was on the radio. The rest of his attention was focused on the tome and Dean.

            Dean had dragged him out to the garage because, _“you can’t spend all of your time inside Cass.”_ Now that Castiel had learned to drive Dean also wanted to teach him how to care for a car. Castiel had told Dean it wasn’t necessary but Dean insisted. He was starting simple, Castiel was learning what the different tools were by fetching them for the hunter.

            Another song finished and the next to start began with an instrument Castiel could not remember hearing before. Having captured his attention he stopped to listen.

_Well the Devil went down to Georgia_

_He was lookin’ for a soul to steal_

_He was in a bind ‘cause he was way behind_

_And he was willin’ to make a deal_

 

            Castiel’s brow furrowed at the words. From what he knew of his brother it wasn’t the amount of souls he owned that he cared about. It was what he did with them, what he could turn them into.

 

_When he came across this young man_

_Sawin’ on a fiddle and playin’ it hot_

_And the Devil jumped up on a hickory stump_

_And said, “Boy, let me tell you what”_

 

_“You probably didn’t even know it_

_But I’m a fiddle player too_

_And if you care to take a dare_

_I’ll just make a bet with you”_

_“Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy_

_But give the Devil his due_

_I’ll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul_

_I think I’m better than you”_

_Lucifer would never do something like that,_ Castiel thought. Though the image the words invoked caused his lips to twitch upwards slightly. He didn’t play any kind of instrument, let alone a fiddle. That must have been the instrument he’d heard at the beginning of the song. Castiel closed the tome and turned his attention fully upon the radio.

_The boy said, “My name’s Johnny_

_And it might be a sin_

_But I’m gonna take your bet, you’re gonna regret_

_I’m the best there’s ever been”_

_Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard_

_‘Cause hell’s broke loose in Georgia and the Devil deals the cards_

_And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold_

_But if you lose the Devil gets your soul_

_Georgia!_ The song continued with more notes from the fiddle. Castiel turned his gaze from the radio over to where the hunter lay under his car. “Dean,” he called.

            Dean rolled out from under the car and sat up, wiping his hands on a rag, “yeah?” he asked.

            Castiel turned back to the radio. He heard Dean get up and move towards him as the lyrics began again.

_The Devil opened up his case_

_And he said, “I’ll start this show”_

_And fire flew from his fingertips_

_As he rosined up his bow_

_And then he pulled his bow across the strings_

_And it made an evil hiss_

_And a band of demons joined in_

_And it sounded something like this_

            “What’s up Cass?” Dean asked as soon as he neared the angel.

            “Could this be a clue?” Castiel asked.

            Dean’s brow furrowed momentarily then seemed to recognize the song. “Dude, that’s Charlie Daniels Band.”

            “What?”

            “It’s a song. It came out like… the year I was born I think. It’s just a song, nothing to do with anything Satan related going on. Besides, does he really play a fiddle?”

            “Well no, but…”

_When the Devil finished_

_Johnny said, “You know you’re pretty good old son_

_But you just flop down in that chair right there_

_I’m gonna show you how this stuff’s done”_

_Fire on the mountain, run boys, run_

_The Devil’s in the House of the Rising Sun_

_Chicken in the bread pan pickin’ at dough_

_Granny does your dog bite? No child, no_

            “It is possible this is foretelling Lucifer’s next whereabouts.” Castiel argued. Prophecy could show itself in many forms. Not just through people like Chuck Shirley. “Perhaps the writer was one a prophet.”

            Dean rolled his eyes. “Cass, it’s a _song_ ,” he emphasized. “Besides if you’ve been paying any attention to the lyrics you’d realize how far off the mark they are. There’s no way Lucifer is in Georgia.” He paused for a second. “I wonder if this is the good version.”

            “Good version?”

_Well that ol’ Devil bowed his head_

_Because he knew that he’d been beat_

_And he laid that golden fiddle_

_Down on the ground at Johnny’s feet_

_Johnny said, “Devil, come on back_

_If you ever wanna try again_

_I done told you once you son of a bitch_

_I’m the best there’s ever been”_

            “Yes,” Dean said with a shake of his fist.

_He played, ‘Fire on the Mountain’, run boys, run_

_The Devil’s in the House of the Rising Sun_

_Chicken in the bread pan pickin’ at dough_

_Granny does your dog bite? No child, no_

            Once the last notes were played and the radio station broke for a commercial Dean explained, “There’s two versions of this song. One where he says ‘son of a bitch’ and another _edited_ ,” he gave a shudder, “where it’s ‘son of a gun.’ It’s rare the true version is played on the radio. People think it’s offensive.”

            Which had nothing to do with Satan being in Georgia. “I think we should still check to see if it’s true.”

            “If what’s true,” Dean asked, rifling through the tools again.

            “That Lucifer is in Georgia.”

            “For the last time… You know what Cass, fine we’ll look.”

            They returned to the house to check on any demonic omens.

            Turns out, the devil really was in Georgia after all.


End file.
